Candid
by SlowQuotesQuill
Summary: Modern AU. Mu La Flaga takes photographs of the woman that he loves, showing the many faces of Murrue Ramius—sometimes kind, sometimes angry, sometimes sorrowful, but always unbearably, impossibly beautiful. Mu/Murrue. Ten photographs, all in one shot.


**Candid**

* * *

_In the never-ending course of the seasons,  
an hour will come when this planet will vanish into nothing  
and all the things in my heart will be restored to zero  
as I stare on with only the eyes of a boy.  
But for now we're together again, and toward the end of that dream  
we start walking, hand in hand, never letting go._

—**Moment**, Vivian or Kazuma

* * *

**1**: Her first.  
_Sunny skies. The spring of 2002._

His first photograph of Murrue was taken when they were still strangers. It showed her as a striking, pretty figure sitting on a park bench, with a tree towering behind her and shrouding her in its shadow.

She was reading a yellow paperback book then, her nylon-covered legs crossed casually in an oddly charming pose, and the hem of her black pencil skirt fluttered a bit around her knees as the light spring breeze passed by. Her dark hair was clasped back to prevent it from getting into her face, affording him a clear glimpse of her grave expression, as though there was nothing more important to her at that precise moment than to read the book in her hands.

The sun was bright in the sky, and being the beautiful day that it was, Mu La Flaga couldn't help but raise his camera to his eye and snap a quick shot of the young woman on the bench.

When he had actually taken the photograph, he didn't quite expect that he would fall for the woman that had become his unwitting subject. But then, his days in the city became longer as he searched further for sights that could occupy the empty slots in his camera, and when the nights became lonelier and the days warmer, he found himself riffling through his photos on the computer and irresistibly going back to look at the picture that he had taken of her.

A week later, he had found her again, asked her out, and Mu began to know more about this woman who looked even more beautiful in flesh.

**2**: Her sweetest.  
_Clear skies. The summer of 2002._

He never knew that Murrue could look even better in such casual clothing, having been used to seeing her in her standard work apparel, the one he called "teacher's clothes"—the pencil skirt, the hem of the white button-up shirt tucked neatly behind the waistband, and the blazer in varying shades of dark color. However, school let out, and Murrue showed up to their date in clothes that made her seem even younger than her twenty-six years.

With Murrue clad in a white sundress and matching sandals, the summer wildflowers on her hat bowing in the heat, Mu remembered how she smiled and looked up at him as they walked side by side, prompting him to take a quick shot with his camera. It was poorly done, given how they were moving as he was clicking the shutter release, and made everything seem shaky. However, the natural sweetness that Murrue exuded in the photograph made up for every little flaw.

When the day is especially good, Mu could swear that this single photograph has no flaws at all.

**3**: Her busiest.  
_Cloudy skies. The fall of 2002._

Whenever Murrue wears a random cotton shirt and loose trousers made with tough material, with work gloves on her hands, Mu knows that she has already entered what he dubbed "engineer mode", wherein Murrue enters a world completely her own and works steadily on the mechanical problem that has induced this mode, belying her usual school teacher guise.

So when he shows up one day and sees her up to her elbows in car engine, with a dark smudge on her face, he instinctively knew that he had to do.

The picture that he had snapped was significantly unique, Murrue's femininity still apparent with the way her cap was tilted in an oddly coquettish angle, exposing intent amber eyes and lips turned in a concentrating frown, and the way the shadows accentuated her curves beneath the thin shirt, however loose it might be.

Murrue was so busy that she didn't know Mu had taken this picture until he showed it to her one quiet evening, and she had been so embarrassed in being seen like that that Mu jokingly vowed to make sure that he gets more shots like these.

**4**: Her most solemn.  
_Overcast skies. The spring of 2003._

Mu has always found Murrue's tendency to take things seriously one of her most significant traits, and in the photo that he had taken one night as the storm raged all around the apartment, he found one of Murrue's most soulful expressions.

Clad only in a huge shirt that reached down to her bare thighs, Murrue sat on the wide sill of the single huge window in his room, watching the rain pour down the glass in sheets. Her eyes were a dark gold, her lips slightly parted, and her knees drawn up to her chest, a perfect example of a fresh-faced beauty after getting up from bed.

She didn't really seem afraid of the thunder and the lightning—it was almost as if she was watching just for the sake of watching the occasional flashes of light beyond the house.

"Murrue?" Mu had remembered saying after taking the picture, and looking up from her reverie, Murrue's lips turned up at the corners in a beatific smile.

"Don't you sometimes feel that storms like this will never end?" she murmured as he embraced her, her warm breath permeating through his shirt.

"Not really," he said, smiling against Murrue's hair as he breathed in her scent. "After all, I know the sun will always rise the next day."

**5**: Her most annoyed.  
_Partly cloudy skies. The summer of 2003._

Murrue rarely ever experienced premenstrual syndrome, which Mu was rather thankful for, as when it does strike, it leaves Murrue in a rather edgy mood that can erupt in a full-blown irritation when he steps on a landmine.

Most memorable was when this picture was taken, in the summer of 2003, when Murrue unwittingly gave him the chance to snap a photo, showcasing her rosy lip in an unamused snarl and her brows scrunched together in a huge scowl.

Seeing her again like this when riffling through his collection and seeing this particular image, Mu could almost forget that this all stemmed from an argument about eating Murrue's portion of the pie in the fridge.

Almost.

**6**: Her most unusual.  
_Clear skies. The winter of 2003._

It was really just an accident. Really, it was. However, Mu couldn't remember what exact kind of accident had provided him with such an amusing picture.

Nevertheless, when he had rushed to the scene after the calamitous clatter of the plate, Murrue was looking up at him, with bits of frosting stuck in her hair and upon her nose, and his birthday cake was flat on the kitchen floor, and he couldn't help but laugh at the mishap and snap a picture with the camera that was at the ready in his hand.

Murrue didn't really appreciate the funny aspect of the moment until some days later, so Mu was glad he had taken that particular picture. After all, it is unusual to see the clumsy side of such a normally poised person.

**7**: Her saddest.  
_Overcast skies. The spring of 2004._

The smell of the approaching rain hung heavy in the air, and Murrue's tears did not escape Mu's camera as they stood over the freshly-turned mound of earth, letting the last of the crowd trickle away with half-hearted condolences dangling from their lips.

He did not intend to take the picture, but he was so struck with the fact that Murrue looked even lovelier in her sorrow. She did not mind in the least, but Mu promptly dropped the camera and took her hand when she held it out.

"He was a brave man," she finally bit out, as though to keep herself from making sobbing noises.

"Yes, he was," he replied, simply.

They stood there for a while, looking at the stately marble headstone, where the name of Murrue's only remaining parent was carved. And now…

"I'll take care of her from now on, sir," he murmured, saluting, and he felt Murrue's head come down on his left shoulder with a comforting weight.

**8**: Her most daring.  
_Cloudy skies. The summer of 2004._

Mu didn't really know how striking (and deadly) Murrue could be in a swimsuit, but that picture he had taken in the beach before comically collapsing onto the sand and miming a nosebleed was an accurate shot.

Mu was now certain that Murrue looked the best in white. Even if that white left seventy percent of her skin uncovered.

**9**: Her most anticipated.  
_Clear skies. The fall of 2004._

Mu had known that Murrue had a best friend, but didn't see said best friend until the fall of 2004, already over two years into their relationship. He just imagined Natarle Badgiruel exactly like how Murrue described her—cool and unruffled, but in reality very warm underneath the iron exterior.

Natarle only consented to come back from her job in another country because of her best friend's wedding, Mu having sprung the question after the burial of Murrue's father, and was also curious to see what kind of man Murrue had decided to marry. So when Murrue went up to Natarle in the airport and threw her arms around her, with Murrue standing slightly shorter than Natarle because of the latter's heeled shoes, Natarle saw a tall blond man with an uneasy grin on his boyish face, while Mu saw a military woman with ice enough to freeze him when she fixed him with a steely gaze.

"So this is your boyfriend?" was Natarle's first question.

"Yes," Murrue said with a tiny smile. "Or, actually, fiancé, now that I think of it. It feels weird though."

"He smiles a bit too much."

It was with gentlemanly grace that Mu bit back a hasty laugh at this well-received comment, and snapped a photo of the two ladies together at Murrue's request. Thankfully, Natarle, after the initial brusque remark, gave him a small nod that silently bade Mu, _Take care of her, or it's a bullet in your brain._

He remembered how he had shivered internally at that. Natarle seemed like the woman who takes a promise too much to heart, after all.

**10**: Her most beautiful.  
_Sunny skies. The spring of 2005._

Perhaps, Mu thought, nothing could have been more beautiful than Murrue in their wedding day.

"Mu!" Murrue complained half-heartedly as he raised the camera when they were all assembled before the doors of the church, the ceremony having been finished just minutes ago. "Come here!"

"I wanted to take a picture of you," he said, grinning. "D'you know that you look like an angel in white?"

Murrue smiled at him and pulled at his arm. "Sure, sure. Just, let every picture on this day be of us together, okay? You always take so many pictures with only me dominating the focus; I hardly have one of us together."

"Really?" Mu said, taken aback. "Oh… well, I guess I didn't notice that one." Smiling at Murrue's sigh, he took her hand and clasped it firmly, feeling the ring on her finger press lightly against his skin. "Then, shall we have this one together?"

One relative was only too happy to take the picture of the newly-weds, and Murrue caught his lips in a kiss as the camera went off.

Seeing how the moment was perfectly preserved on paper, that moment when a woman is feeling happiest with the man she loved, Mu thought, _It was her most beautiful picture, indeed._


End file.
